Words week after week, sometimes sung, and usually
with hands up, down and across – Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Those words ring out today, hundreds of voices
proclaiming and waving palms, re-living that day.

We are that crowd, hungry for Someone and
ready to receive. A King! One who will bring
justice for all our pain, who will rescue us from all
our demons and who will make all things new.

Music swells and heart swells and it is impossible
to remain still or quiet. Come, throw down your fears
and lay down your plans and prepare a road
for this One to enter. Come!

He is here, the thudding of the crowd fades.
There is silence and only Him.
He must face the mob and I must see Him for
who is really is.

A disappointment. Not the One. Not
what I thought, not what we wanted, not
enough and not going to save us.
Now the crowd sees too.

Noise swells and anger swells and it is impossible
to remain still or quiet. Go! Take away your
promises and lay aside our dashed dreams.
This one shall not enter. Go.

He is still here, and we are that crowd,
hungry to punish and ready to
crucify. A King! One who didn’t bring
justice or rescue or anything new.

The day begins with hope and ends with death
and we are that crowd.

Note: This poem is part of my Lenten discipline, in which I attempt to cultivate space and quiet in order to hear from God and respond with poetry.